Don't Know How It Happened
by ausllydawmoon
Summary: He's in the middle of the room with another drink in one hand, while the other is holding her hand and twirling her. The buzz is getting stronger and his mind is getting fuzzier but he finds himself caring less and less the closer she presses herself against him. One-shot


He's known her longer than she's known him. He's found her…intriguing, to say the least. She's bubbly and happy and has a lot of energy for such a small body. She's good.

He, on the other hand, is _not_ bubbly, _not_ happy, and doesn't really have any energy. He's a bad boy. No, he isn't really popular, as most would assume, but those who know him wonder why he isn't. He's got the looks and the attitude. But he isn't really a social person.

As opposed to popular belief, she _is_ popular. Yes, she's a good girl, and yes, she's smart, but people like her. She's sweet, and pretty, and fun, and just because she's a good girl, that doesn't mean she doesn't let go every once in a while.

So it isn't weird that he knows her. Everyone knows her.

He wonders how she can be so energetic and bubbly all the time, especially with all the rumors that are constantly floating around about her. He believes none of them, though. But he _does_ want to know the real story. She's a mystery to him, one that he wants to solve, but he doesn't know why. He doesn't usually care about people's backgrounds.

He doesn't like her. He doesn't like _anyone_. But he _is_ very curious. And he's curious as to _why_ he's curious. It seems to him that she's an open book. If he cares that much, he should just talk to her.

But he's a bad boy. Bad boys don't do that.

* * *

He likes parties, he really does.

Not for the actual _partying_ part. No, he doesn't do that. He leans against the wall with a drink in his hand, a light buzz coursing through his veins, and he watches people. Watches them dance, watches them slowly drink themselves into oblivious, wonders how they could do that to themselves. He doesn't like fuzzy, vague memories. He'd rather know exactly what he's done.

He looks around the party, sipping whatever's in his cup, when he sees her. She's in the middle of the room, dancing and singing her little heart out, with glassy eyes and a grin on her face and a drink in her hand and even though the only words he'd usually use to describe a girl are _hot_ and sometimes _sexy_ , the only word that he can think of as he looks at her is _beautiful_. He knows that there's some sort of significance in the fact that he sees her differently than other girls but he doesn't really care right now.

And then she sees him. He nods at her and she beckons him over. He shakes his head, pursing his lips. He doesn't dance. Never has, never will. She makes her way over to him, stumbling a bit in her drunken state.

"Come on!" she slurs, tugging on his arm. "I saw you looking at me."

He shakes his head, face void of emotion.

"I don't dance."

"You're at a party!"

"I know."

"So come on!"

"Nah."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't like dancing. You can go dance. Or find someone else to dance with you. But I don't dance."

She rolls her eyes.

"Oh, just shut up and dance with me."

And before he knows what he's doing, he's in the middle of the room with another drink in one hand, while the other is holding her hand and twirling her. The buzz is getting stronger and his mind is getting fuzzier but he finds himself caring less and less the closer she presses herself against him.

He downs his cup, and suddenly there's another one in his hand. So he drinks that one, too. He isn't even thinking about it. All he cares about is the beautiful girl he's dancing with, the girl who is smiling and laughing and drinking just as much as he is.

And then she's talking to him, yelling above the loud music. She's saying that she's noticed him always looking at her. She's asking why he doesn't talk to many people, why he hardly smiles, why he doesn't open up, why he doesn't have any fun. Her questions give him a headache. He thought _he_ was the one with the questions.

He doesn't have any answers for her. But he doesn't need any because all of a sudden the buzz is too much and he feels himself floating and he's smiling, laughing, pulling her closer to him. She's laughing, too.

She's blurry now, but still just as beautiful. Her laughter is music to his ears and even though his mind is fuzzy, it's never been more clear. He likes her. He wants her. He isn't even sure if he has her, but he's never letting her go.

* * *

He opens his eyes and finds himself staring into someone else's.

"Ally?" he whispers.

"Austin."

"You know who I am?"

"Yeah," she says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You're just unapproachable. Bad boy and all that."

"Oh. Right."

He sits up and scratches his head. Flashes of memories appear in his mind, but disappear too quickly for him to figure out what happened. Most of the memories are of her. Her eyes, her laugh, her smile, her lips, her body. Fire erupts in his chest and courses through his veins, and he looks at her.

She props herself up on her elbows, keeping herself covered with the sheet.

"There goes my status as a good girl."

"What?"

"What do you remember from last night?"

"You."

"Well, what do you think happened?"

"We didn't actually-"

"But we did."

"This is why I don't dance."

She laughs. The sound echoes in his brain and the fire in his bloodstream burns hotter.

"I thought you were a bad boy," she says.

"I thought you were a good girl," he counters.

"Good girls can be bad."

"Bad boys can be good."

"Fair enough."

"How did this _happen_?"

"You kissed me last night."

"I'd assume so."

"And you-you _said_ things. Things a bad boy wouldn't normally say."

"Like?"

"You said I was beautiful."

"You are."

She looks at him, and he looks at her.

"You were looking at me like…" she trails off.

"How do you remember it?"

"I stopped drinking. You didn't."

"Oh."

"Turn around. I'm gonna get dressed."

He obliges, getting dressed as well. When she gives him the okay, he turns back around to look at her.

"What happens next?" he asks.

"I don't know."

* * *

What happens next is that his whole world is turned upside down. He can't stay away from her. She doesn't seem to mind, though.

No one knows that they slept together, and they've come to an agreement to keep it that way. But people _do_ know that something has happened between them. One day, they were strangers, and the next, they were almost inseparable. Austin knows that people see his wandering eyes. He knows they take notice of his hands that can never stay at his sides when he's around her. He knows that they can't possibly miss his stolen kisses in the hallway.

Guys learn that she is now untouchable. Not that she wasn't before, but they'd at least try to flirt with her. With Austin around though, they don't have the guts to get between him and Ally.

Girls learn that he is now uninterested. Of course, he's never been social, but if a girl was lucky she could get a kiss or two out of the bad boy. More people start knowing him, now that he's always hanging around one of the most popular girls in school. But he still doesn't talk to many people. He doesn't have the patience, and quite frankly he doesn't want anyone trying to tear his attention away from Ally.

Rumors fly around that he's obsessive, that she spends time with him against her will. But he knows better.

And if he ever has any doubts, she kisses them away.

* * *

"What are we?" she asks him one day.

"What do you want to be?"

"Yours."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

He kisses her, and at some point tells her that he wants to be hers. She smiles in response.

So now she's his and he's hers. And he realizes that she was never really a mystery. In fact, the only 'mystery' about her were his confused feelings. But now that he's figured them out, she really is an open book.

He has no idea how all of this happened all of a sudden, but this mystery is one he'd kind of like to leave unsolved.

* * *

 **not sure how I feel about this but reviews are cool :)**


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